Journeying
by coprime
Summary: A series of stories about how Draco and Ron hook up. Added chapter 12. m/m
1. The Incident

Title: Journeying: Chapter 1: The Incident  
  
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Ron Weasley  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never have been, never will. They belong to J. K. Rowling. Please don't sue.  
  
Summary: Draco and Ron get stuck in the bathroom together.  
  
Warnings: This takes place sometime within the characters fifth year, so they're fifteen. This means underage! There's also stuff in here that has two guys kissing and being in a relationship together. If you can't deal, leave.  
  
Notes: Uh, none really. There's some language in this chapter and others are racier, so this fic's getting an R rating. I know that these characters are using American cursing. It's because that's what I know and if I tried to use British, it'd sound bad. Go with it, peoples.  
  
Feedback: Yes please. If I don't know what was bad, it ain't ever gonna get better.  
  
~The Incident~  
  
It was their fifth year at Hogwarts, right after the Christmas Eve feast. Ron should have been happy, but instead he was feeling slightly nauseated. Only Harry and he were inside the Gryffindor Common Room, digesting the large meal they'd just eaten. Hermione and all the other Gryffindors had gone home for the holiday, so they were the only ones left in their house. Ron guessed that he was looking kind of ill because Harry keep looking at him funny.  
  
"Ron, are you feeling ok?" Harry finally asked.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine," was Ron's reply, which would have sounded a whole lot more convincing if he hadn't groaned afterwards.  
  
"You sure?" Concern faintly radiated out of his friend's captivating green eyes.  
  
"Um-hmm. I'm going to walk around for a bit." When Harry's eyes didn't lose that touch of inspection, Ron added, "Don't worry so much. For Pete's sake, you remind me of my mum."  
  
Harry snorted at that and Ron beat a quick retreat out of there. Once outside, Ron leaned back against the wall next to the portrait of the Fat Lady. She herself was asleep, happily snoring away. Ron wasn't looking forward to having to wake her to come back in, but his stomach was starting to rebel against all the food in there. He hoped some exercise would help calm it down.  
  
After wandering for several minutes, Ron had to decide that the exercise was not helping. If anything, his poor, abused stomach felt worse. Thinking that a bathroom might just come in handy soon, Ron found the nearest one and went in. It was near where the Slytherins walked whenever they were going back to their Common Room, but presently Ron didn't care that this toilet had probably been used by Malfoy numerous times.  
  
As soon as he'd gotten in the door, Ron dashed to a toilet bowl and hung his head over it. After regurgitating all of dinner into the porcelain bowl, the redhead flushed. He was in the middle of gargling to get the worst of the taste out when he heard someone struggling to open the door. Obeying his sense of something foreboding coming in, Ron went and hid in the stall farthest from the entrance, sitting on the tank with his feet on the lid.  
  
Immediately after he'd gotten out of sight, the stubborn door opened with a bang. A low-voiced string of curses entered along with the person who'd been trying to get in.  
  
"Goddamn door. Just wait'll my father hears about the state things are in around here. He'll fix everything right up, you can bet your ass. He's not just going to fuck around like shit-for-brains Dumbledore is."  
  
It was Malfoy! The unctuous voice was one Ron could recognize in his sleep. He had seen him at the feast, minus Crabbe and Goyle for the first time Ron could remember. He gritted his teeth and clenched his hands, the knuckles turning white, forcing himself not to leap out of his stall and attack the annoying prick. Explaining what he was doing in the lavatory so far from his Common Room could not be easily done. And if Malfoy didn't buy it, which was more than likely, then when school started back up all his classmates would know that he'd been cowering in a washroom.  
  
Malfoy quickly took a piss, of which Ron could make out part of Malfoy's arm through the crack in the door. After briskly washing his hands, Malfoy headed out Ron's sight, assumingly to leave. Ron breathed a sigh of relief that his nemesis was leaving, but it was premature.  
  
Ron heard, as opposed to saw, Malfoy try the handle. It stuck. With another curse, Malfoy tried even harder, even ramming his shoulder against the uncooperative door in a futile attempt to escape. Seeing that leaving was impossible, Malfoy leaned his back on the door and slid down until he was sitting on the disturbingly clean floor. Despite himself, Ron let out a snicker at Malfoy's predicament, momentarily forgetting to be quiet.  
  
Ron berated himself in the stillness that followed. He could have been heard! Lucky for him, Malfoy didn't seem to have heard. The two sat silent, one unaware of the other, supposedly, until Malfoy called out.  
  
"So," the pale boy drawled, "who's in here with me?"  
  
Ron kept still, hoping that his undesired companion would give up.  
  
"Is it maybe Potter? Or perhaps one of the other houses. A Hufflepuff possibly? No wait, I know. It's got to be that impossibly loud-mouthed Weasley friend of his."  
  
Ron still kept quiet, still hoping that the idiot would get bored and leave him alone.  
  
Hearing Malfoy stand again, Ron let out a small sigh of relief. He was going to try the door again. But instead of the banging and thumping he expected, there were Malfoy's unhurried steps echoing in the small room. Occasionally they would stop and Ron could hear a creak as the unoiled hinges on one of the stalls opened.  
  
Just as Malfoy started to reach for his door, Ron could see him through the crack once more; he leapt of his seat and shoved the door open, hitting Malfoy right in his kisser with the edge. While Malfoy was still leaning over and howling in pain, Ron rushed past, determined to leave.  
  
He tried the door handle, but it wouldn't move. He started applying more and more pressure, but the knob was still as immobile as it had been before. Giving up on the traditional way of opening the door, Ron backed up, fully intending to run into it and break it open.  
  
Draco, having recovered from the blow, noticed what Ron was about to do and grabbed the boy's elbow. The fool struggled, but Draco refused to let go.  
  
Ron, unable to wrench himself away from Malfoy, chose to glower instead. "What're you going to do now that you've caught me?" he spat.  
  
Malfoy, seeing that Ron had given up breaking down the door, released Ron's arm. "The door won't open, at least from this side, for a while yet. Better make yourself comfortable."   
  
Malfoy's voice was surprisingly free of venom. Ron didn't trust it. Malfoy resumed his position seated against the door, staring at his long fingers, only now Ron could see how that thin body gracefully folded in on itself, almost swallowed by volumous black robes.  
  
*Graceful*! Had he, Ron, just called something about Draco, his worst enemy, graceful? Apparently he had. Disturbed by his own thoughts, Ron sat cross-legged leaning against the wall opposite Draco. So that he wouldn't have to look at white-blond hair falling in front of pale blue eyes and brushing pale pink skin, Ron cast his eyes about the room for something to stare at.  
  
The overhead lights were very bright, exposing everything underneath. No way was he going to ask Draco about the door. There were a few urinals on one side of Ron. He also wasn't going to ask Draco why he had, as yet, to pick a fight with him. On the same side as the urinals were two sinks. In fact, he wasn't going to ask Draco anything. There was no soap, which wasn't surprising since this was a boy's bathroom. He wasn't going to question himself as to why he was calling Draco Draco instead of Malfoy. Opposite the sinks and urinals were the four bathroom stalls. In fact, he wasn't going to think about Draco at all.  
  
Lighting his eyes on the floor, Ron spotted the spider. It wasn't especially big, but it definitely wasn't tiny. Fighting his natural instinct to run away and thus lose face in front of Draco, Ron sat perfectly still. He was the picture of calm, except for a slightly gray tint to his face, until the thing scampered an inch closer to Ron. Giving in just a touch to his fear, Ron pulled his legs up so that his arms were wrapped around his knees. The spider inched a bit closer to Ron. Ron pressed his lips together tightly, draining them of blood, and whimpered slightly.  
  
Draco, hearing noise from the, until now, silent boy, looked up from his hands curiously. Ron was staring at the seemingly blank floor, blue eyes widened in panic, though not too noticeably. Draco glanced back down at the floor, but this time he happened to see a small, black spider there. Looking at Ron, Draco couldn't quite bring himself to believe that a harmless insect was causing the other's blind terror.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw the spider move even closer to Ron. Bringing his gaze back up to Ron's face, he observed that now his companion had tightly clenched his eyes shut. So, it was the spider after all.  
  
Closing his eyes was a mistake, he knew. But Ron couldn't stop himself. Draco wasn't dumb; by now he should have figured out Ron's behavior. Ron heard a slight rustle of clothes but didn't dare open his eyes.  
  
He heard Draco come nearer to him and soon felt the boy's hot breath tickling his ear. Draco blew a puff of air onto his ear, tickling the sensitive hairs there. Ron snapped his eyes open and turned his head just enough so that he could see Draco, hands drawn back behind his robes and therefore hidden, kneeling by his side.  
  
Draco, seeing that he had Ron's attention, twisted his thin lips into a grin. "I take it, Weasley, that you don't care for spiders much?" he said maliciously.  
  
Ron didn't answer, instead staring transfixed as Malfoy drew both hands forward, separating them only as long as necessary. They were clasped together as if holding something. Ron had a terribly feeling that he knew what the something was.  
  
When Draco opened his hands, he saw that he was right. Sitting in one palm was the lone spider. Ron gave a faint cry and tried to scamper away but was trapped by the wall on two sides and by Draco on the other two. Before he could pull himself together enough to go through where Draco was, the boy did something surprising. He smashed his palms together, killing the insect in one swift blow.  
  
Ron watched, bemused since that all he could handle at this moment, as Draco's body got up and washed his hands clean of the spider guts. With still wet hands, Draco once more sat, only this time next to Ron, and chuckled.  
  
Unable to cope with such great derivation from his foe's normal routine, Ron decided that he would go on the offensive. Jumping to his feet, the livid boy shouted, "What kind of mind game are you playing with me, huh? What, no insults? Are you loosing your touch Malfoy?"  
  
With his chest still heaving from his outburst, Draco looked up at him and smiled. A genuine smile. If he hadn't been staring at it right now, Ron would never have believed it could even exist.  
  
Draco countered with another question. "Don't you ever just get tired of it all?"  
  
Ron stared blankly and Draco clarified his previous statement slightly. "Trying to live up to what society expects of you." The smile had slipped. Draco's voice held weariness in place of his usual contempt.  
  
Ron sat back down next to Draco. The two shared a companionable silence, both lost in their own thoughts. On occasion Ron would fidget or Draco would shift so as not to lose feeling in any limb.  
  
Finally, Draco spoke up. There was a speculative, wistful quality to his words that indicated, to Ron anyway, that the Slytherin boy was being more truthful than he ever had been to his present company. "My father's always pushing me to achieve more than he ever did, to continue on the way Malfoy's have been for centuries. Sometimes I feel like I'm his clone instead of his son. And I want to shatter that image he has of me. And the image everyone else has of me. I think, perhaps, I should do something brash and stupid just to prove that I'm not who everyone believes I am." Ron had turned his head to watch Draco as he spoke, but the other youth had stared straight ahead. Now, he turned his head and brushed his lengthy blond hair out of the way.  
  
"Do you ever feel that way?" he whispered.  
  
Ron watched curiously as Draco leaned closer and caught his own lips in a tender kiss. Ron opened his mouth slightly and Draco pushed his tongue in, exploring gently. Ron remained passive and soon found his mouth freed from the other boy's. Draco gracefully stood and opened the door, which unlatched easily. He exited, leaving Ron alone on the bathroom floor. Ron stared, thunderstruck, at Draco's retreating figure. Searching his brain for a coherent thought, the first one he found was that his mouth must have tasted terrible. 


	2. After the Incident: Ron's POV

Title: Journeying: Chapter 2: After the Incident: Ron's POV  
  
Summary: Ron's thoughts on what transpired in the bathroom.  
  
Notes: None.  
  
Feedback: Yes please. If I don't know what was bad, it ain't ever gonna get better.  
  
~After the Incident: Ron's POV~  
  
Ron couldn't figure it out. At first glimpse, that entire scene seemed like some new trick that the Slytherin was playing on him. But for some reason, Ron wouldn't believe it. Perhaps it was the different tone of Draco's voice. Perhaps it had been the odd confession, one which Ron found himself accepting all to readily.  
  
Before he knew it, Ron was back in front of the slumbering Fat Lady. He stared at her dumbly for awhile, trying to put his thoughts in order. If Harry was still up, he didn't want to explain what had gotten him in a tizzy.  
  
Ron formulated a plan of attack for not arousing his friend's suspicion. He'd enter. Hopefully, Harry will have already gone to bed. If so, he could sit and watch the fire in the common room while thinking. If Harry was there, then he'd excuse himself, claiming he was tired, and feign sleep on the bed. A good plan, tad simple maybe, but that's what made it so good.  
  
However, before he could enter the room, he had to awaken the Fat Lady.  
  
"Excuse me!" Ron bellowed at the portrait.  
  
The Fat Lady opened her eyes sleepily and mumbled, "Password?" before closing them again.  
  
"Loganberry," Ron quickly replied.  
  
The Fat Lady yawned and the portrait swung open.  
  
Stepping through, the first thing that Ron saw was Harry lying prostrate on the couch with his eyes closed. Ron started to sneak across the room to the entrance to his and Harry's tower.  
  
"What took you so long?" Harry asked groggily. "I almost fell asleep waiting for you."  
  
"I just, uh, needed some time to think about things. Been thinking lots of things. Uh-huh." Ron could feel the heat in his ears as they turned red, giving away his lying.  
  
"Alright then. I'm going to bed. Don't forget; tomorrow's Christmas Day."  
  
Harry hauled himself to his feet and climbed upstairs to his four-poster bed. Ron would have liked to go to sleep, but he was too hyped up. As he paced back and forth, the cold from the stone floor seeping through his worn shoes, his mind replayed those last few minutes spent with Draco.  
  
The other boy had kissed him! *Kissed* him, another *boy*! What was even more disturbing was how readily Ron accepted these thoughts, even in some ways, enjoyed them. He didn't know how to act around Draco anymore. Should he pretend it never happened? Kiss him back in public? Or should he wait for Draco to make the first move again?  
  
Sighing to himself, Ron plopped his lanky butt onto the sofa. He ran his fingers through his own thick, red hair imagining what Draco's would feel like. And what his skin would taste like. And what his ice blue eyes would look like heated with passion. And what his voice would sound like when it cried out his name.  
  
By thinking decidedly unsexy thoughts about his brother Percy, Ron got his raging hormones under control. It was pretty damn obvious to him that he no longer hated Draco. He lusted after him. And, Ron had reason to believe that the Slytherin boy felt similarly towards him. The entire encounter seemed almost unreal, but Ron could still feel a tingle on his lips where Draco's mouth had been.  
  
So, what to do about the situation? He couldn't possibly tell his friends; Harry and Hermione couldn't be expected to understand how he fell. Hell, he wasn't sure how he felt. They'd start to question his judgement; possibly, they would believe that he had been enchanted. And there was another very important factor he was leaving out of this entire equation. Draco himself! Ron had a good idea about how the boy felt, but he didn't know what he would want to do about it.  
  
Perhaps, before he decided to do anything, he should talk to Draco and get his opinion on what to do. Ron stood up and again went to the bathroom. This time though, he was going to get ready for bed.  
  
When he was finished and in his pajamas, Ron laid down to sleep with visions of Draco dancing in his head. 


	3. After the Incident: Draco's POV

Title: Journeying: Chapter 3: After the Incident: Draco's POV  
  
Summary: Draco's thoughts after the scene in the bathroom.  
  
Notes: Light cussing.  
  
Feedback: Yes please. If I don't know what was bad, it ain't ever gonna get better.  
  
~After the Incident: Draco's POV~  
  
Draco Malfoy slowly wound his way up the staircase, past the guardian portrait, and into the Slytherin common room. There was a green fire on one stone wall, giving off a weird light but no heat. Directly in front sat a green vinyl davenport. Towards the back of the room a few tables with chairs were strewn about for students to work. The last items of furniture were a couple of easy chairs designed for relaxing in. Draco was the only one in the room; all his housemates, even Crabbe and Goyle, had gone home for the holiday.  
  
Draco sat in one of the overstuffed easy chairs and curled his body up. He'd fucked up. Royally. Ron, by now, would be telling Potter all about how Malfoy had hit on him in the bathroom. It would've been pretty hard to miss. And then, the inseparable friends would take their revenge on him. Ron's honor would have to be defended after all.  
  
And once the holidays are over, they won't hesitate to tell the entire school that he, Draco Malfoy, had fallen for one Ron Weasley.  
  
But he was just so goddamn lonely! Was it so hard to imagine that he cared about someone? That he wanted someone to care about him in turn?  
  
The pale boy thought back on his own past. Growing up, he could have described his life as frigid. When he was younger, neither of his parents cared what he did, so long as he didn't get in trouble. As he came of age, his father had instructed his heir in the ways a Malfoy should behave. Any time he had shown an inkling of something contrary to what was being taught, he earned himself a slap across the face. The first few times he had gone, crying, to his mother for comfort. After saying that he deserved it, never even bothering to listen to the reason, she would go back to whatever she had been doing. It was never something that could be put on hold for a few minutes for her son.  
  
Soon, Draco had learned to stop saying what he thought. He took on the sneering mannerisms of his father. His eyes turned from an ice blue fire to just plain ice. When he acted above the rest of the world, he didn't get hit. He closed his heart off to the world.  
  
But, as time passed at Hogwarts, away from his father, he unfroze parts of himself. Parts he wished had stayed frozen. Because, damn, did it ever hurt. It was almost as if there had always been this little fire inside of him, just waiting for a few flames to be added, so that it could melt the ice.  
  
The biggest flame of all had been Ron. The lean boy had a passion to match his fiery hair. Draco, after hitting puberty, had fallen hard and fast for him. Ron had an almost unconquerable spirit and was loyalty given physical form. Seeing Ron so quickly ready to defend his friends made Draco wish that there was someone who would do the same for him. Draco laughed bitterly. No, there was no one. The only people to talk willingly to him were the other Slytherins. And they cared only for their own person.  
  
Draco let his eyes drift shut, wondering what it could have been like. He soon fell asleep curled up in the chair with tear tracks drying on his smooth cheeks. 


	4. Christmas Day

Title: Journeying: Chapter 4: Christmas Day  
  
Summary: The next day.  
  
Notes: None.  
  
Feedback: Yes please. If I don't know what was bad, it ain't ever gonna get better.  
  
~Christmas Day~  
  
The next day, Christmas Day, breakfast was actually a brunch. The delay was to let the staff and students who had stayed over during the holiday have a restful morning and a chance to open presents. When Draco awoke from his spot in the chair, the early morning sunlight streamed through a small window and brought some cheer to an otherwise dreary common room.  
  
He stretched his slim body throughout his morning routine of dressing and whatnot. There were no presents waiting by the foot of his bed; he hadn't expected any. Concerned about what the day would bring, Draco studied his face in the mirror. He would try to avoid anything about what had happened and perhaps Ron would just chalk the whole thing up to a weird dream. He wished he could be that lucky.  
  
For the actual meal, Ron and Harry were the last ones down to the dining table. The only spots left were across from Draco. Ron, naturally, chose the seat directly in front of him. Draco studiously tried his best to ignore Ron during the meal, but the stubborn boy was making that impossible.  
  
First of all, whenever he reached for something, Ron reached either for the same thing or something nearby, making sure their skins brushed against each other. Then, Ron apparently had slipped his shoes off under the table. One large, sock-covered foot kept trying to snake its way up his robes. A handful of times it found itself higher up than Draco really wanted. He'd blush pink whenever this happened and hastily push the offending body part away. Ron, for his part, carried on an animated conversation with Harry. The only outward recognition of what he was doing to Draco was an occasional triumphant smirk.  
  
Draco excused himself very quickly, leaving his food for the house elves to clean up. He started going down a random hallway. The sound of his feet echoed off the stone walls. Most of the paintings on the walls were sleeping in. An occasional picture or suit of armor would frown or do something else rude as the much-disliked boy escaped.  
  
The reprieve was only temporary however. Soon, Draco heard another set of footsteps following behind him. He hurried his pace, hoping to lose the now-forward teen in the maze-like halls of Hogwarts. As he had expected though, the other footfalls merely sped up as well.  
  
Ron called down the corridor, "Wait up. We need to talk."  
  
Draco decided to grant his unexpected request, but didn't answer. Instead, he turned into an empty classroom and waited for Ron. The room was fairly small. It held one teacher desk and only a dozen student desks. It hadn't been used in some time. All cabinets and shelves were empty, but dust and cobwebs were almost nonexistent. Draco heard Ron's footsteps coming nearer and leaned against the large, wooden teacher desk in, he hoped, a casual manner.  
  
Ron walked in and paused, merely a few steps away from where Draco was. "So," the unusually pale teen drawled, "what do you want?"  
  
Ron studied Draco. He was wearing luxurious black robes with silver clasps. His nail blue eyes were obscured slightly by the blond hair falling in his face. His heart-shaped face looked even more like porcelain than normal in the darkness of the deserted room. Pert, pink lips tempted Ron. Draco, for his part, started to fidget under the assessing gaze.  
  
Smiling, Ron stepped closer to Draco and murmured, "This is what I want."  
  
The taller boy leaned in, and Draco found his mouth being taken. The kiss was not rough, but it was insistent. He couldn't resist such an offer and gave in to Ron. Their tongues met and warred briefly with each other. When both were happy, Ron put his arms around Draco's waist and pressed the other against him. Draco slid his hands behind Ron's back and skimmed them up until his fingers were cradling Ron's head.  
  
The kiss broke apart when the teens needed air. Neither pulled out of the embrace though. When Ron spoke, Draco could smell his breakfast faintly and feel his hot breath on his own face.  
  
"Is it what you want?"  
  
Draco was at first unsure how to respond to the question. Yes, he did want a relationship with Ron. But what if it was some really cruel trick? He wasn't sure that he'd be able to freeze his heart once more. Still not sure, he remained silent.  
  
"You're beautiful, you know," Ron said as he tucked some of Draco's hair behind his ear.  
  
"This isn't some kind of joke or lark for you, is it?" Draco asked earnestly.  
  
Breathing in Draco's fragrance, Ron answered, "Mmm. No, this is very, very real. Want to try and make this work?"  
  
"Hell yeah." Draco grinned. He'd gotten a Christmas present after all. 


	5. Interlude

Title: Journeying: Chapter 5: Interlude  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never have been, never will. Please don't sue. Song "What Made You Say That" belongs Shania Twain.  
  
Summary: An interlude before a trial.  
  
Notes: Song lyrics are in //. The song is "What Made You Say That" and belongs to Shania Twain. This is an illustration of why one should never force songfics.  
  
Feedback: Yes please. If I don't know what was bad, it ain't ever gonna get better.  
  
~Interlude~  
  
//Maybe tonight I'm gonna tell him how I feel  
Maybe I'll leave well enough alone  
Maybe, just maybe, he'll want to be my baby//  
  
The Christmas break was almost over. In the week that had followed the fateful encounter in the bathroom, Draco and Ron had met every chance they possibly could without arousing anyone's attention. They were together several times a day. With only six teachers and four other students, it was easy to avoid people. But, when the students came back from vacation the next day, time would be very limited. The couple wanted to meet for one last time without having to worry about being found out.  
  
//What if he's got plans of his own//  
  
Ron smiled as he walked to today's rendezvous. He surprised himself with how readily he was falling in love with Draco. Before the holidays, if anyone had suggested that he and Malfoy would start dating each other, he would have said that the fumes in Professor Trelawney's room were making their brain boggle.  
  
But it had happened. Draco, while still having a cynical outlook on life, could also be warm and caring. Ron enjoyed discovering new facets every day to his boyfriend's personality. Boyfriend. He also really liked being able to say that.  
  
//I'm waiting for the perfect moment  
Looking for the perfect phrase//  
  
Tonight, they were meeting in one of the tower rooms. Ron hoped that the clouds wouldn't hide the moon. Moonlight reflected off of Draco's skin and turned it silver. He could almost believe that Draco was some woodland sprite with his pale hair and glowing skin. Very poetic and bewitching. To his dismay, whenever he tried to tell Draco such things, his tongue got tied and only disjointed phrases came out.  
  
Ron walked into the chamber and found Draco already there. The sight the Slytherin boy presented made Ron's mouth go dry. Draco was sitting cross-legged on top of a pile of blankets; Ron didn't care to know where they'd come from. Draco was smiling and had already unbuttoned most of his robe. Judging by the amount of skin flashing in Ron's eyes, Draco wasn't wearing anything underneath.  
  
//The one I finally choose is simply "I Love You"//  
  
Unable to tear his eyes away, Ron whispered, "I...I love you."  
  
//As the words came out I heard a voice inside me say  
What made you say that  
Was it the moonlight, was it the starlight on your eyes  
What made you say that//  
  
Mentally, Ron berated himself. No way would Draco believe that, even though it was the truth. Just a little over a week ago, Ron had loathed Draco. And now that hate was love? Ron himself hadn't realized that it had happened until he'd said the words.  
  
Draco looked taken aback at first, but now he patted a spot next to him on the blanket. "Why don't you come and sit?" he asked with a hint of amusement in his voice. Ron did as he was bid, taking off his shoes before sitting.  
  
//Have you been listening to your heart  
It's too late now, you don't want to  
(I won't let you) take it back  
'Cause I know love's  
What made you say that//  
  
Draco's robes almost immediately hit the floor once Ron sat down. Ron was pleased that his assumption about what was underneath had been correct. Soon, Ron's clothes joined Draco's on the floor. Anyone walking near this tower where the teens were would have heard a variety of thumps, bumps, and moans for the next half-hour. After that, silence reigned as the two basked in the afterglow of exploring each other's bodies.  
  
Ron was lying on the blanket with Draco curled up next to him, resting his head on Ron's bare chest. Clothes were still in a messy heap on the floor, but a robe had been pulled up over them to help keep the couple warm. There were a few marks that had not been there before on Ron's long frame. Draco's thick, corn silk hair-colored spilled across Ron's muscular chest.  
  
//I look up to see his reaction  
And a smile slowly spread across his face  
He said, "What took you so long  
That's what I've been waiting on  
I though you'd take forever and a day"//  
  
"Did you mean it?" Draco asked after a time.  
  
"Mean what?" Ron replied, not understanding what his boyfriend was asking.  
  
"Your declaration of love earlier." Draco's voice came off as casual, even if he wasn't really.  
  
"Course I did. Wouldn't have said it otherwise." Ron acted as if he wasn't shocked by this.  
  
Ron paused waiting to see if Draco would share similar sentiments. Draco paused to process the new information.  
  
"How could you? Love me, I mean," Draco clarified.  
  
"I don't really know. I guess I just do."  
  
"Oh, ok."  
  
Again, another pause.  
  
"I love you too you know," Draco said after a time.  
  
"Yeah, I know."  
  
//What made you say that  
Was it the moonlight, was it the starlight on your eyes  
What made you say that//  
  
Eventually, Ron said, "We need to get back to our rooms."  
  
"Mm-hmm," was Draco's sleepy reply.  
  
Ron looked down. Draco's eyelids were already starting to drift shut.  
  
"Harry will miss me when I'm not in bed in the morning."  
  
"Good for him."  
  
Sighing, Ron watched as his lover fell asleep. He pulled the robe up higher and soon joined Draco in dreamland. Harry wasn't as important as this.  
  
//Have you been listening to your heart  
It's too late now, you don't want to  
(I won't let you) take it back  
'Cause I know love's  
What made you say that// 


	6. Surprises

Title: Journeying: Chapter 6: Surprises  
  
Summary: Draco and Ron are caught in the act.  
  
Notes: None.  
  
Feedback: Yes please. If I don't know what was bad, it ain't ever gonna get better.  
  
~Surprises~  
  
It was bound to happen sooner or later. Draco was actually surprised that it hadn't been sooner. He and Ron had, at times, been less than discreet. Harry and Hermione had been very suspicious these last few weeks. Ever since that one morning when Harry woke up and Ron was missing. Ron had evaded Harry's questions of course, but Harry knew something was up. Ron's ears always turned beet red under pressure. Draco thought it was one of his more endearing traits.  
  
So, when Ron sneaked out of his room late one night to meet him, Harry followed. Neither of them noticed Harry until Ron started reaching for the silver clasps on his robes. That was when Harry made his presence known.  
  
He screamed quietly, if such a thing is possible, "Ron! Get away from him!"  
  
Ron looked from his boyfriend to his friend and whispered, "No. Go back to bed Harry."  
  
Harry obeyed, though it didn't look like he knew why. Perhaps he had actually been shocked enough that he would obey blindly. Ron let out a small sigh of relief and turned back to Draco. "Now where were we?"  
  
Ron's large hands traveled back to Draco's buttons, but the fey boy pushed the digits away listlessly. Ron could easily have pushed back and won, but he let Draco do what he wanted.  
  
"What are you going to do about him?" Draco asked forlornly. His entire posture had become limp.  
  
"I'm sure things will work out in the end," Ron reassured.  
  
"And what about the jeers behind our backs?" Draco asked, becoming more animated as he spoke. "What about your precious friends? You know that they're going to try and kill me for corrupting you, no matter how much you argue that you wanted to be corrupted," Draco said, laughing depreciatingly.  
  
"Don't ever joke about things like that," Ron whispered fiercely.  
  
"Things?" Draco asked, confused as to what the other was referring to.  
  
"Getting killed."  
  
"Why not? You know it's going to happen someday." The Slytherin in Draco was coming to the forefront by trying to protect itself, to hell with how his boyfriend might feel about.  
  
"And I'm going to do everything I can to try and stop it." Ron's voice was getting angrier.  
  
Draco was taken aback by the emotion hidden in Ron's words. He hadn't expected the boy to get protective of him. "I didn't know you cared so much Weasley," he replied in mock surprise.  
  
"Of course I care, you stupid git." Choking back a sob, Ron swept the slightly shorter boy into his arms. The stayed like that for a few seconds; Draco resting his head against Ron's shoulder, and Ron holding him carefully like a precious gem. Both drawing comfort from the other. Simultaneously, the sweethearts turned their faces to each other and kissed.  
  
Tonight, the mood had been killed. The kiss didn't progress to anything beyond a simple kiss. After, each went their separate ways back to their respective rooms. When Ron went to bed, Harry was already asleep with the curtains drawn around his four-poster for privacy.  
  
By getting up early and skipping breakfast and sitting far away during classes, Ron was able to successfully avoid Harry. Even so, he still felt Harry's green eyes, as well as Hermione's brown ones, drilling into his head. Harry must have told the honey-haired girl what had transpired at some point.  
  
At lunch, Ron decided to hang out in the library. One could get lost among all the rows of books. He went to one far corner and sat down in one of the ever-present uncomfortable chairs that libraries seem to have. Pulling out some parchment and a quill, he thought that he could at least try to get some work done.  
  
Ron was deeply absorbed with bullshitting his Divination homework when he heard someone sit in the chair next to his. He glanced up and did a double take. It was Hermione! And she was facing him with a patient smile formed on her lips.  
  
"Hi Hermione," Ron stated awkwardly.  
  
"Ron," she whispered furtively, "we need to talk."  
  
Ron was about to bolt for the door when Hermione said, "I'm not going to condemn you."  
  
Ron settled back into his seat and his heart started slowing down. "So, talk."  
  
"First I've got a question for you. Are you serious about Draco? It's not just some prank? Because if it is, it's in the worst taste ever."  
  
"Yeah, we're serious," Ron said slowly.  
  
"Good." Hermione turned businesslike. "I'll tell you up front; Harry's not pleased. He thinks that you betrayed him."  
  
Ron exploded. "But I didn't! It just sort of happened that we got together. It wasn't like I chose to fall in love with Draco!"  
  
"Shh!" Hermione whispered. "You don't want to attract a crowd, do you?"  
  
"No," Ron said in a contrite voice.  
  
"I know you can't help who you fall in love with. Believe me, I know." Ron looked at his friend asking for an explanation with his eyes, but Hermione didn't elucidate. "You've got to talk to Harry. Try to make him understand. Everything with You-Know-Who hasn't gone away yet, and he's going to need your friendship to help him get through it."  
  
"I can try, but I don't think he'll willingly talk to me."  
  
"Don't worry about it. Just be in the old Charms room tonight after dinner. I'll get Harry there."  
  
"Thanks Hermione. You're a great friend." Ron stood and leaned over to Hermione, kissing her lightly on the cheek. Ron left and a faint blush graced Hermione's cheeks.  
  
*****  
  
Draco was wandering the halls of Hogwarts at night. He wondered what had transpired since Harry had caught him and Ron together yesterday. He'd not had a chance to talk to Ron and was therefore out of the loop. Suddenly, he heard voices coming from inside one of the rooms. They sounded angry.  
  
Draco jogged down the hall and peered into the room that the voices were coming from. Inside, Harry and Ron were facing off. They were on opposite sides of the room, separated by several feet. Draco decided to stay and watch but to do so secretly. He went into the room to the right of where the fight was. He slipped into the closet there; the two small classrooms shared one closet. Opening the door to the other room a crack, Draco could watch easily, but the darkness of the closet concealed him from sight.  
  
"No, Harry!" Ron yelled at his best friend. "I am not going to give this up because you said so!"  
  
Harry crossed the floor and planted himself directly in front of Ron. Draco watched from the sidelines. He'd never had someone defend him before. It was rather nice. Then Harry shoved Ron. Not hard enough to make the taller boy fall, but enough so that he knew Harry meant business.  
  
Ron's voice, which before had been vocal with anger, now became very quiet as he addressed Harry. "I don't care what you think. I've found happiness and I'm going to fight for it. For this. *For Draco*."  
  
Ron curled his hands into fists as Harry continued shouting. "You can't be serious! This is Malfoy we're talking about here! You've hated him ever since our first year! He must have bewitched you or something."  
  
Quirking up one side of his mouth, Ron replied, still in that oddly quiet voice, "Why, it almost sounds as if you're jealous, Potter."  
  
And then Ron let one fist fly and punched his friend, his best friend, hard in the jaw. Ron beat a hasty retreat with as Harry watched. Draco hadn't actually expected the friends to come to blows over him. Harry turned around and spotted the partially open closet. He squinted trying to make something out in the darkness. Draco froze. It couldn't be *him* that Harry saw.  
  
But it seemed like it was. Harry strode over and yanked the door the rest of the way over. Both boys stared at each other until Harry punched Draco in the gut.  
  
Doubling over, Draco managed to say, "Shit! That hurts!"  
  
"It's less than you deserve, you bastard," Harry spat. "Ron says he loves you and I don't doubt that he thinks he does, so I don't blame him for his behavior."  
  
"Let me guess," Draco said through clenched teeth, "you blame me."  
  
"Right in one." Harry snarled and punched Malfoy again, this time in the chin.  
  
Malfoy hissed, but didn't show any other reaction. He didn't even try to fight back.  
  
Harry paused. "Why aren't you trying to me?" he asked, confused, but keeping his fists up in case Malfoy tried something.  
  
Draco straightened. "Because happiness is transitory."  
  
"Huh?" Harry still didn't understand why his school nemesis wasn't jumping at the chance to hurt him.  
  
"I am happy now. This means that it must end. Why should I fight it?"  
  
"Malfoy, what the hell are you talking about?" Harry brought his fists down so that they no longer threatened.  
  
"I should have known that you'd be too simple to understand easily," Malfoy said, antipathy starting to show in his voice.  
  
"Quit with the insults and just spell it out for me." Harry was losing patience with Malfoy's roundabout answers.  
  
"Fine! You really want to know? I love Ron. I have no idea why and it's scary. I am actually, for the first time I can remember, content with my life. Whenever I have gotten anywhere near being this happy, life has pulled the rug out from under my feet. *Every* time. Why should I have expected this to be different?"  
  
As Harry watched, he saw one glistening tear make its way down Draco's face.  
  
"Look," Harry started, "I'm sorry. I just couldn't believe that Ron would willingly want you."  
  
Grinning lopsidedly, Draco said, "Yeah. Sometimes I have trouble believing it too." Draco thought that perhaps, judging by Potter's tone, things could be worked out.  
  
Harry stuck out his hand and Draco looked at it inquisitively.  
  
"Truce?" Harry asked.  
  
"Truce."  
  
Both boys smiled and shook hands, sealing the bargain. 


	7. Something Overheard

Title: Something Overheard  
  
Summary: Harry and Hermione hear some things they wish they hadn't.  
  
Notes: I like it. Been wanting to write this for a while now.  
  
Feedback: Yes please. If I don't know what was bad, it ain't ever gonna get better.  
  
~Something Overheard~  
  
Harry needed to find Ron. Instead, he found Hermione in the Gryffindor common room doing, what else, homework. Harry rushed up to the bushy-haired girl.  
  
"Hermione," he said slightly out-of-breath, "where's Ron?"  
  
Hermione placed her quill down. "I don't know. Can I help you?"  
  
No." Harry shook his head. "He promised that we'd do our Divination homework together. Otherwise, it becomes an insurmountable task of boredom."  
  
"Well in that case," Hermione said lightly, "I'll help you look for him. I need to take a break anyway."  
  
She put her many books away, and together they set off in search of Ron in the myriad hallways of the castle. Turning round a corner of an infrequently used hall, they saw a flash of red hair duck into a class at the far end.  
  
Harry assumed that it was Ron. It was a safe assumption since the only other Weasleys at Hogwarts were Fred, George and Ginny. It couldn't be Ginny because the person in the hall was male. And it was doubtful that it was Fred or George since one was rarely seen without the other.  
  
Hermione and Harry reached the approximate spot where Ron had disappeared. At first they were unsure which room their friend had gone in. Then they heard a grunt come from behind a closed door. Curious, each teen put an ear to the door and listened.  
  
"C'mon Draco. Put your back in it."  
  
::grunt:: "Don't you think I'm trying Weasley."  
  
"God! Pull harder!"  
  
Harry and Hermione turned and looked at each other with eyes widened in shock. However, both went back to listening through the door.  
  
"Look. ::pant:: I think it's stuck."  
  
"Let the master try then."  
  
::pause::  
  
::pause::  
  
"Those hands sure are a lot more nimble than they look."  
  
::smirk:: "You like what they're doing then?"  
  
"Well, I can think of a few more creative uses for them. But what they're doing now is good."  
  
::longer pause::  
  
"You realize that this is really turning me on."  
  
"Yeah, well. I'm just talented like that."  
  
::groan::  
  
::small pause, heavy breathing::  
  
"Still stuck?"  
  
"Still stuck."  
  
"Would the master like some, er, help with that?"  
  
"Fine. Go ahead. I'd like to see what you can do."  
  
::scuffle, shift::  
  
::pause::  
  
"Ew, Ron. When was the last time these got washed?"  
  
"You're the one who put their mouth on it. What did you expect? A lemony-fresh scent?"  
  
"No. But certainly not anything this bad."  
  
"You could give up if you want."  
  
::muffled:: "I never give up."  
  
::snort::  
  
::pant, pant::  
  
"I still can't believe you put your mouth there."  
  
"It was an idea."  
  
"Which didn't work and was really gross."  
  
"I don't see you coming up with any brilliant plans."  
  
"Hmm."  
  
"Uh-oh. I don't like that sound. What are you thinking?"  
  
::pause::  
  
::pause::  
  
"I've got it. You grab this end and I'll grab here."  
  
"Now what?"  
  
"I wasn't done. Now we pull."  
  
"This is the plan?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
::mumble:: "This is just stupid."  
  
"Pull on three. One...Two...Three."  
  
::grunts, groans, and other sounds of strain::  
  
Hearing things behind the door reaching a climax, Harry stopped listening and sprinted down the hall, getting as far away as he could. Hermione, seeing that Harry had abandoned her, mimicked him. Behind the door, there was a triumphant "aha!" followed by a loud pop.  
  
"So, Draco, what do you want to do now?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Getting that damn knot out of your shoe has exhausted me."  
  
"Oh. Sorry."  
  
"Ron, why couldn't I use my wand to untie that thing?"  
  
"Muggle Studies. I have to last two weeks without using my wand. Except in class of course."  
  
"Which still leaves the question why couldn't I use my wand?"  
  
"I'm not allowed to get anyone else to use theirs for me."  
  
"Your teacher wouldn't have known!"  
  
"Shh! Yes, he would have. I swear to you he's got spies or something everywhere."  
  
"Whatever. We should be getting back. Someone's going to wonder where we are pretty soon." 


	8. And They Danced

Title: And They Danced  
  
Summary: The Muggle Culture Club is holding a dance.  
  
Notes: This is a thinly veiled excuse for a karaoke machine and Draco in a dress.  
  
Feedback: Yes please. If I don't know what was bad, it ain't ever gonna get better.  
  
~And They Danced~  
  
Ron surveyed his classmates as they danced or talked or did other things at the first dance held by the Muggle Culture Club, or MCC for short. Nearly every student and teacher was there; the dance was a good activity to take people's minds off the darkening world around them. Ron almost hadn't gone. What was the point of going if he wouldn't be able to be with Draco? The couple's relationship was still secret even if Harry and Hermione knew about it, and they planned to keep it that way. For the time being at least.  
  
Hermione, however, was the club's secretary and had insisted that he go. How would it look, she had argued, if even friends of the group members didn't support it? So he had come, wearing some of Dean's clothes since he didn't have any good Muggle clothes of his own. The blue jeans and green sweatshirt weren't the most comfortable things he had ever worn, but it was better than nothing.  
  
The party was progressing much better than anyone had expected. Ron believed it to be because someone had put a spirits charm on the punch, which acted much like alcohol did only without the hangover. The culprits were unknown, but Ron had a good idea who they were. After all, the pair played almost all of the pranks that happened at Hogwarts nowadays. No teacher bothered to remove the charm since they all enjoyed its affects as well as the students.  
  
The karaoke machine had been a huge success. Ron didn't know how anyone had got it working since electronics couldn't function inside the castle, but someone had. The most entertaining song Ron had seen so far this evening was Hermione and Ginny's stunning rendition of "Day-O: The Banana Boat Song."  
  
At first, Hermione had resisted. She claimed that she couldn't sing and that any attempt would cause any glass within hearing distance to shatter. Ginny eventually cajoled her into getting up in front of the machine. Watching Ginny belt out the lyrics so enthusiastically, Hermione was unable to resist and joined the Weasley girl. Afterwards, both were flushed and giggling maniacally.  
  
Now it was time for the costume contest to begin. The idea was that everyone was supposed to dress in his or her wildest Muggle clothes and the winner would get a coupon good for any store on Diagon Alley. The first ones up on stage were Fred, George, and Lee Jordan, their friend. The trio was wearing wigs and miniskirts and, for some reason Ron couldn't fathom, was insisting on being called Posh, Scary, and Baby. A few people giggled at this, but most, like Ron, didn't understand the joke.  
  
After them, several other people were paraded. Most merely wore jeans and a T-shirt, but a few of the more adventuresome had tried to dress up as someone. There were people dressed as kings and queens. Some had dressed up like pilots and doctors and whatnot, having borrowed their parents' clothes. There was even someone in a costume of a yellow rat-thing.  
  
But it was the last contestant that knocked Ron's socks off. At first, Ron figured that she must be one of the Hufflepuffs. That was the house he knew the least, after all. But thinking, Ron realized that he had never seen her in the school. She reminded him a bit of Fleur Delacour, the veela girl who had competed in the Triwizard Tournament with Harry last year. Ron felt drawn towards her.  
  
She wore a short black number that accentuated her small, but well-formed, breasts. She had narrow hips which showed off a slim waist. Her legs seemed to go on forever and when they finally did end, her feet were encased in black stiletto heels. Her blonde hair fell into her pale face, obscuring most of it from view.  
  
Apparently, no one else could recognize her either. A couple whispers Ron heard claimed that she was from Slytherin, but no one could place a name to the face. The announcer for the show merely called her up as "Anonymous." She finally lifted her head up and shook her hair away, giving the audience a fleeting glance at her facial features, before she stepped off the stage.  
  
That one glimpse had sent Ron's mind reeling. It wasn't some strange veela girl up there, but Draco Malfoy himself! He was wearing makeup, which made the boy's already soft features look very feminine. The only coherent thought that Ron could come up with was that his boyfriend looked damn sexy in drag. However, he seemed to be the only one who'd figured out precisely who had been up on stage. Everyone around him was still gossiping as to who the mystery person was. Some were on the right track, claiming that the girl was actually a guy, but none had the slightest clue to guessing the right identity. Perhaps because this was exactly the sort of thing one would expect a Malfoy not to do.  
  
Ron followed Draco into a hallway away from the noisy dance. Once they were far enough away to hear each other over the music, Ron prepared to let his tongue fly. What exactly was Draco trying to do? Make a fool of himself?  
  
Before he could open his mouth to make a sound, Draco sidled up to him and pressed their bodies together. The feeling of two soft, round somethings pressing into his chest was new to Ron, and all he managed to do was gasp at the sensation. Draco, for his part, started to purr into his ear.  
  
"One dance. Please?" Draco brought his arms up to encircle Ron's neck.  
  
Ron blushed as he answered. "We can't. We might get caught. And then what would happen?"  
  
Despite his protest, Ron snaked his arms around the now same-heighted boy's waist. Draco looked at Ron while starting to sway in time with the distant music.   
  
"You heard everyone out there. For tonight, I'm a girl. No one will care what we do." Draco smiled up at Ron shyly, his pale eyes still mostly hidden by his blond hair.  
  
Ron smiled back. "For tonight," he promised. And they danced till the night was over. 


	9. Letters Home

Title: Journeying: Chapter 9: Letters Home  
  
Summary: Nothing can stay secret forever.  
  
Notes: The story starts out as regular prose, and then switches to letters. Just in case someone was confused. The grammar mistakes in Ron's letters are on purpose.  
  
Feedback: Yes please. If I don't know what was bad, it ain't ever gonna get better.  
  
~Letters Home~  
  
Today was the last day before the students left for summer vacation on the Hogwarts Express. Ron and Draco were meeting one last time before they would be parted. Ron hurried to their secret spot. The night sky was dark; barely any moon was out tonight.  
  
Ron arrived slightly out of breath. Draco was already standing there, leaning against a tree. His ink black robes blended into the shadows, but his pale hair stood out even in the minimal light. Their spot was a secluded patch of trees away from both the castle and Hagrid's hut.  
  
Seeing Ron panting, freckled cheeks flushed, brought a smile to Draco's soft lips. A genuine one, not the sneer he reserved for the rest of the world. He straightened and caught Ron's larger hands in his. He tugged gently and sat, with Ron across from him, their knees touching.  
  
"Hey," Draco started, his voice colored with a hint of tenderness that might not have ordinarily escaped.  
  
Ron finished catching his breath before answering. "Hey yourself. I'm going to write, you know."  
  
"I know. Don't worry; I'll write back as well."  
  
"Do you--" Ron paused. "Do you mind if I tell my folks about you?"  
  
"No. I think they deserve to know. But you won't be upset if I decline telling my parents?"  
  
"Nah. They might sacrifice you to You-Know-Who if they ever found out. Want to get more comfortable?"  
  
"Thanks. Sure."  
  
"No need to thank me."  
  
Ron shifted so that his back was against a sturdy tree trunk. Draco lay down on the soft grass and placed his head in Ron's lap. Ron ran his fingers through Draco's soft hair, gradually lulling his companion into sleep. Ron stayed awake to watch as his pale lover slept. It was a sight he didn't often get to cherish. Awake, Draco, while still wonderful, never entirely let go. Asleep, he became as innocent as a newborn.  
  
They stayed like that for some time, until the moon started its descent from its zenith in the sky. They needed to be getting back to their rooms before someone noticed their absence. Ron shook Draco lightly until the smaller boy woke. Draco stood and stretched to work the kinks out of his body, with Ron following suit.  
  
Ron made a move to leave the area but was stopped by Draco's hand on his waist. Ron looked at him questioningly.  
  
"A final kiss goodbye?" Draco whispered.  
  
Ron swooped in and captured Draco's mouth for his answer. The kiss lasted until both participants were breathless. Forcing himself to part, Ron took a step back.  
  
"As much as I would love to continue this, we need to get back. Getting caught out here is not my idea of a fun time."  
  
Draco mutely nodded his agreement. The two then silently crept back to their beds.  
  
*****  
  
Dear Draco,  
  
How are you doing? Is your dad giving you trouble yet? Please don't let it get to you. Remember-- you don't have to follow his plan for you. Even though we talked about it, I'm still sorry we couldn't say goodbye at platform nine and three-quarters. Nothing much has happened here yet; after all, I've only been home one day! I'm going to tell my parents tomorrow after dinner. Wish me luck.  
  
Love,  
Ron  
  
*****  
  
Dear Draco,  
  
I did it! I told my folks! They were surprisingly okay with it, I think. They didn't care at all that I'm dating a guy, just who I was dating. They don't particularly trust the Malfoy name. I don't blame them, but I tried to explain that you weren't like your father at all. They promised to keep an open mind about you. Who knows? They may even decide to owl you. Anyways, I've decided to not make a big announcement about who I'm dating to my siblings, but if they ask I'm not going to lie.  
  
Love,  
Ron  
  
*****  
  
Ron,  
  
Please tell your parents not to owl me. My father will already be suspicious about the number of owls you and I are going to send back and forth. For this summer, I've decided that I'm going to do more things that I would like to do instead of sucking up to my father's idealizations of me. Today, I explored the grounds surrounding our mansion. I'd never realized how many beautiful flowers we had planted. They must be my mother's pet project; Father prefers his pretty things not to wither and die. That way, he says, they leave a legacy. I think I may go outside every day just to read.  
  
Truly yours,  
Draco  
  
*****  
  
Dear Draco,  
  
Alright, I'll tell Mum and Dad about not owling you. But they're still going to want to meet you eventually. You'll never guess what I found out today! Ginny's dating someone too! She won't tell who it is, only that they go to Hogwarts. That doesn't really narrow the possibilities down any. So, you mentioned reading in your letter. What are you reading? Is it any good? Write back soon!  
  
Love,  
Ron  
  
*****  
  
Ron,  
  
I'm currently reading some of Edgar Allan Poe's short stories. I don't know if you would enjoy them much, since the plot tends to be dark and often deals with subjects like being buried alive. Personally, I enjoy a bit of horror; it makes me think about the human mind and how far it can be stretched before breaking, I suppose. If you really want to know whom Ginny's dating, all you have to do is sneak a peek at one of her letters. I miss you; there isn't anything to do here, really. Please keep me updated on all your family's doings. They make interesting stories.  
  
Yours,  
Draco  
  
*****  
  
Dear Draco,  
  
Yeah, you're right, I probably wouldn't enjoy those stories. I can't believe you told me to look at Ginny's things though! She and Mum would *kill* me if they ever found out. And I know you don't want that to happen. Though maybe I could find another way to get her to tell.... Um, nothing really interesting's happened around here. Bill's home for a short visit, Mum keeps bugging him about his hair, they do that every time they see each other. Oh, I know something interesting! Yesterday, Bill decided to help Mum cook dinner. It was a disaster. Not only was all of the food either over or undercooked, but he also managed to splatter the entire kitchen with something. It's kind of green but it tastes like peanut butter. Later.  
  
Love,  
Ron  
  
*****  
  
Ron-  
  
My father found your last letter. Please stop writing before anything happens. I'm sorry.  
  
-Draco  
  
*****  
  
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley:  
  
It has come to my attention that your son is pursuing a relationship with my own. I am forcing Draco to put a stop to this at once and urge you to do the same with your son. Do not believe that I will let this farce continue in any shape or form. If it is continued, I will have to take drastic action.  
  
Sincerely,  
Lucius Malfoy 


	10. Consequences and Plans

Title: Journeying: Chapter 10: Consequences and Plans  
  
Summary: Draco and Ron deal with the aftereffects of Lucius' discovery.  
  
Notes: I don't normally write action scenes; I think you can see why. Writing is in /.  
  
Feedback: Yes please. If I don't know what was bad, it ain't ever going to get better.  
  
~Consequences and Plans~  
  
Lucius Malfoy tied his letter onto his owl's leg and sent the large bird off to the Weasley household; she should have it delivered within a day. Now was the time to make Draco see what was proper conduct for a Malfoy. Lucius left his office behind, which came complete with an ornate desk made out of ebony, and headed for his son's bedroom.  
  
Lucius had discovered his son's dalliance when he'd seen the boy's owl return from somewhere and had decided to question Draco. The letter had been hidden by the time Draco let him enter, but Lucius was nothing if not resourceful. When Draco left to read that silly Muggle book of his, Lucius had sneaked back into the room and searched it. He'd waited there until Draco came back, and then he locked the boy in his room while he wrote to the Weasleys.  
  
Lucius entered his son's bedroom quietly, without fanfare, but he knew Draco heard him enter anyway. Everything surrounding him was cold, even the air, and no creature was immune to the feeling. Draco was sitting on his bed with the curtains pulled shut, but Lucius could see the boy's outline through the sheer fabric. When Lucius reached the bed, he softly drew back the drapery. Draco looked up at his father without expression. It was the last moment that had a veneer of composure before Lucius attacked.  
  
A curse, no matter how powerful or painful, wouldn't be enough. Lucius wanted his son to feel the pain physically and have it last long after Lucius himself was finished with the boy. Grabbing his son's hair, Lucius yanked the boy down. Draco hit the stone floor, and something, perhaps his arm, cracked. Lucius berated Draco, punctuating each statement with a kick to his son's body.  
  
"How dare you?" ::kick::  
  
"Not only is he a boy--" ::kick::  
  
"Thus contaminating our family name--" ::kick::  
  
"But he's a *Weasley*--" ::kick::  
  
"An idiotic Muggle-lover--" ::kick::  
  
"With Mudblood friends--" ::kick::  
  
"And he's against everything we stand for!" ::kick::  
  
Lucius bent down and, taking hold of his son's arm, wrenched him up. Draco stood there, silent, right arm held stiffly, head hung down, waiting for the climax of his father's diatribe. He resembled a marionette without the puppeteer to animate him.  
  
"What do you have to say for yourself?" Lucius asked, fully expecting his son to cower for forgiveness.  
  
Instead, Draco did the unthinkable-- he snarled at his father. Lucius would have been pleased if it had been under any other circumstance; his son was growing in anger and cruelty. As it was, the act of defiance only served to enrage him further. Lucius got in one good slap to the boy's face and one sucker punch to his stomach before his son's abused body crumpled once more to the floor. Draco's head made a relenting thunk as it connected with the flagstones.  
  
Lucius turned and exited, leaving his son lying there. Once outside the room, he locked Draco in again. He would get obedience at any cost.  
  
*****  
  
When Arthur and Molly Weasley received the letter regarding Draco and their son, they didn't immediately tell Ron about it. It would only upset him, and the problem might go away on its own anyway. Besides, the couple couldn't possibly be serious. Arthur and Molly finally decided to sit down with Ron and have a talk after Ron skulked around for a few days and was positively twitchy. Apparently, the problem wasn't going away on its own.  
  
When the rest of the Weasley clan was busy, Arthur approached his son and said, "Ron, there's something your mother and I would like to show you."  
  
"Okay." Ron joined his parents in the living room but sat across, instead of next, to them. He leaned forward and folded his hands, appearing eager with his actions, but his eyes looked inert and disinterested.  
  
Molly pulled Lucius' letter from a pocket in her dress and handed it over to Ron. He read it quickly and then looked back at his parents.  
  
"You're not really-- I mean-- Are you?" Ron asked. The only signs of distress visible were his hands clutching at the letter's edges.  
  
Arthur took hold of his wife's hand in a loving gesture and answered, "We think it's for the best that you break this thing off."  
  
"But why?"  
  
"He is in Slytherin, and they're not exactly noted for being...." Arthur trailed off, unsure about what word he was looking for.  
  
"Nice people," Molly finished lamely.  
  
"Dad, just because he's in Slytherin doesn't make him evil."  
  
"Yes dear, your father and I *know* that, but the Malfoys have never shown anything but contempt for our family."  
  
"But Draco did that because--" Ron said, cutting himself off.  
  
"Because why?" Arthur asked when his son didn't elaborate.  
  
"I promised I wouldn't tell," Ron mumbled.  
  
"You should tell us."  
  
"We need to know what the situation is," Molly added.  
  
"His father beats him if he doesn't act like that," Ron said, looking down at his still-clasped hands.  
  
Arthur and Molly sank back into their seats with dual countenances of shock on their faces. Neither parent had expected information quite like that.  
  
At his parent's silence, Ron looked up with a wild gleam in his eyes. "You can't tell *anyone*," he said.  
  
Molly nodded. She and Arthur were still thinking over what Ron had revealed to them. This wasn't the way the conversation was supposed to go. Ron was supposed to agree that breaking off the relationship was for the best; nothing could have come from it anyway. Now, she wasn't quite sure what Ron would do. He certainly wasn't going to give up his boyfriend easily.  
  
Ron's desperate voice broke into Molly's musings. "We can't let him stay at Malfoy Manor. I don't know what his father'll do, but it'll be bad. He probably won't even care if he kills Draco."  
  
Arthur answered for him and his wife. "We'll help you; no one, not even Draco, deserves to be treated like that."  
  
*****  
  
It had been five days since Draco had seen his father. He thought. It was all a little muddled in his mind with several fuzzy, confused patches that made keeping track of time very hard. He suspected that the lump on his head caused the problem. From when his father had.... Hold on a second; it was coming to him. There had been a fight, ending with him on the floor. So, he must have hit his head. His right arm was also apparently injured then. It felt like his hand was falling off.  
  
Sitting on his bed, Draco held a quill in his broken arm and a scrap of parchment in the other. Very carefully, he wrote down /escape/ at the top.   
  
Draco knew he needed to escape. There was no way to predict when his father might decide to punish him again, and he wanted to be gone before that happened. But to escape he needed a plan, and how could he do that if he kept forgetting his plans? He hoped writing them down would work.  
  
Below /escape/, he penned /tunnels/. The secret passage underneath his bed led to a far corner of the gardens. He didn't think his father knew about it, but he could be wrong. He was willing to take the chance.  
  
Next, he wrote down /owl/. Hopefully Ron could meet him outside and help him. Draco stood up and retrieved another piece of parchment for this letter. Sitting back down, he realized that he couldn't remember what the paper was for.  
  
He needed to do something. He needed to... what? Draco looked down at the other parchment in his hand. He needed to owl someone? Someone important. Draco tried to think of who was important in his life. There were his parents, of course, but he didn't have to owl them. They lived in the manor with him. And besides, the parchment said /escape/. So he wouldn't want his parents' help.  
  
No, he needed to owl someone else. It was.... It was... Ron. And just like that, Draco's plan came back to him. He scribbled it all down, including where the tunnel exited, as fast as he could. When he was done, he sent his owl off with the letter. For some reason, his father had forgotten about her.  
  
*****  
  
After dinner was cleaned up, Mrs. Weasley announced to the rest of the family that it was time for a family meeting, went out to the living room, and waited. Mr. Weasley and Ron entered first, side by side, and sat by Mrs. Weasley on the sofa, with Ron in the middle. Fred and George shared a chair-- one in the actual seat and the other perched on the arm, twin expressions of curiosity and confusion in their faces. Bill and Ginny came in last and took the loveseat.  
  
"Ron has an announcement he'd like to make," Mr. Weasley said. "And then, as a family, we're going to help him."  
  
Ron hadn't thought of a good gradual way of saying what he wanted, so he just dove to the heart of the matter. "I've been dating Draco Malfoy for the past half a year. We need to get him away from his mansion."  
  
Ron peered anxiously at his siblings' faces. Bill looked... floored, for lack of a better word. Fred and George were doing their best fish impressions. Only Ginny wasn't shocked, merely concerned. The twins were the first to speak up.  
  
"Draco Malfoy?!"  
  
"Are you insane!?"  
  
"Have you been put under a love spell?" Bill asked bluntly.  
  
Ron blew up; he couldn't take people's responses anymore. "Why does that seem to be everyone's initial reaction? I said we've been dating for six months. Six *months*. That's a little long for a love spell to last, don't you think? And, while you may not have noticed it, I've grown up. I'm capable of making smart choices. Maybe there's something to Draco that you don't see; I certainly know him better than anyone else in this room. So shut up and deal. He's getting out of Malfoy Manor, even if I have to go there by myself." During his tirade, Ron had stood up, too full of impassioned gestures to sit still. Now, he sat back down with arms crossed defiantly across his chest.  
  
Silence reigned for a time, until Ginny finally piped up. "What can I do to help?"  
  
That seemed to spur Ron's brothers on.  
  
"Look, we're real sorry."  
  
"We just didn't think."  
  
"You got to admit, it seems an unlikely match."  
  
"But really, we're all good with this."  
  
"Just tell us how to help."  
  
"And we'll do it."  
  
When they finished, a large eagle owl flew in and perched on the Weasleys' table. It looked like the one used to deliver sweets to Draco while at Hogwarts. 


	11. The Escape

Title: Journeying: Chapter 11: The Escape  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never have been, never will. Please don't sue.  
  
Summary: Ron (and Bill) rescue Draco.  
  
Notes: Sorry this one took so long, but I already am working on the next part. No promises though since exams are coming up, and my life's going to get busy.  
  
Feedback: Yes please. If I don't know what was bad, it ain't ever gonna get better.  
  
~The Escape~  
  
Draco had managed to get out of the manor, despite his broken arm. Now, he was at the arranged spot waiting for the arranged time-- nightfall. It was up the Weasleys to get him from here. How they were going to do it, he didn't know, but he trusted Ron. And if no one came, he supposed... that he could go camping. There really wasn't any reason to go back to his room.  
  
Night fell, and Draco shivered. The only thing he'd brought with him, besides the clothes on his back, was his wand. Anything else was extra baggage and would have slowed him down even more. The tunnels were not especially wide or tall.  
  
The arranged spot wasn't a bad one. It was a clearing, with a large fountain at the center, surrounded by trees. Draco hoped he could hide in the trees while the fountain made the spot easily identifiable. The fact that he was now at the edge of his family's property was an added bonus.  
  
The chill was getting worse. His head was clearer now, but he still didn't trust himself enough to do a spell. What if he accidentally set himself on fire or something equally disastrous? Therefore, no heat and no mended arm. It didn't make for comfortable waiting.  
  
Draco hoped his rescuer came soon. The image of Ron, a knight in shining armor, and him, the damsel in distress, came unbidden to his mind. Perhaps he'd get to wear one of those skimpy dresses that showed of the heroine's heaving bosom? He giggled then groaned at his own idiocy. He was not the giggling sort. What if someone caught him? Good-bye self-respect. He decided he could blame the errant giggle on his lumpy head if anyone caught him. But who would catch him out here alone? The Boogie Man? *That* thought sent him into conniptions.  
  
At that moment, Ron and Bill arrived. Each rode in on a broomstick, Ron clutching a third tightly under his arm.  
  
They looked at Draco, then at each other, and shrugged. Neither had any idea what was so humorous. Draco, for his part, hadn't yet noticed Ron.  
  
Ron placed his two broomsticks on the ground. He walked over to Draco, a tad cautious, and placed his hand on his boyfriend's shoulder.  
  
The laughter faltered. Draco tried to whirl around to face the unexpected touch, maybe flee, but instead managed to fall flat on his butt. Ron peered at him, and for the first time Draco realized what he must look like.  
  
Though his robes were whole, they were covered with dirt and cobwebs. On one elbow was some green slime he'd crawled through accidentally while in the tunnels. He could see the cuts on his hands, dried blood mosaicking his skin, and feel the bruising on his face, probably a lovely shade of purple by now.  
  
Ron finally said, "I, um.... We have a broomstick for you, if you can ride."  
  
Draco stood. Sharp pebbles were imbedded now in the scrapes on his hands. He'd tried to break his fall by throwing his arms back. Bad move. His good arm was still fine, but his right one throbbed painfully again. Just when it had settled into a dull ache. Draco used his left arm to cradle the other close to his body.  
  
Draco remembered that he hadn't answered Ron. "We who?"  
  
Ron shifted his weight from foot to foot but didn't reach out to help. "Me and Bill. My brother."  
  
"Oh." Draco glanced behind Ron and spied Bill, still sitting on his broom. "I don't think I'll be able to fly."  
  
"Alright. You can ride with me." Ron turned around to talk to his brother. "Got it, Bill?"  
  
Bill gave a thumbs-up and picked up the broom originally intended for Draco.  
  
Now, Ron took the extra step to close the gap between Draco and him. "C'm'ere," Ron said. "I'll help you."  
  
Ron slipped his right arm around Draco's waist and lifted Draco's uninjured arm around his neck. Together, they walked the short distance to Bill.  
  
Ron let go of Draco for a moment to mount his broom. Once on, he grabbed Draco's hand and pulled the boy on, settling Draco in front of him. Ron reached around Draco and grabbed the broom with both hands. Takeoffs could be tricky.  
  
Bill lifted off first. Draco felt the broom dip, then rise, as Ron got a jump start. Draco wondered, briefly, about his acquiescence but decided to blame that too on his head injury. It was nice not to have to think.  
  
Once the trio leveled off at a cruising altitude, Ron one-handedly hugged Draco's waist again. Draco leaned back, nestling into Ron. He probably was getting Ron dirty, but he was too comfortable to lean forward and spare Ron's robes.  
  
Draco went to sleep, curled against Ron. 


	12. Adjustments

Title: Journeying: Chapter 12: Adjustments  
  
Summary: The Weasleys and Draco adjust to life with each other.  
  
Notes: If there are any typographical errors, blame it on the fact that I just got a new computer. (Yay! Old one sucked!) So, I got a new keyboard to get used to as well.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please. If I don't know what was bad, it ain't ever going to get better.  
  
~Adjustments~  
  
The beds at the Burrow were surprisingly comfortable. Draco woke with this thought in mind when the late morning sunlight streaming through the small, attic window became too bright to ignore any longer. He sat up and-- gently because of his bruises-- went downstairs. Mrs. Weasley would want to see him.  
  
When the trio had arrived the night before, Mrs. Weasley had been ready to cure any and every of Draco's injuries. But he had been so tired that he could barely stand. And if Draco couldn't tell Mrs. Weasley where he was hurt, how could she heal him? So, off to bed he'd gone. He slept in Ron's room on the top floor while Ron himself got to share with the twins.  
  
Draco reached the bottom of the stairs; Mrs. Weasley was bustling about the kitchen. Dishes clinked in the sink as they washed themselves, and the warm scent of fresh bread filled the room. Draco leaned against the doorjamb for support and stayed quiet, waiting for her to notice him.  
  
Mrs. Weasley turned and nearly dropped the saucer she was holding when she saw him.  
  
"Oh, Draco. Come and sit down." Mrs. Weasley led Draco to one of the kitchen chairs then turned to retrieve the first aid kit.  
  
The kit was a large, bulky, rectangular box that was lemon yellow in color. And Mrs. Weasley set it directly in front of Draco on the kitchen table. "What's the matter?" she asked him, all business.  
  
"I think I broke my arm. And I hit my head on the flagstones."  
  
"Hmm." Mrs. Weasley started to dig in the box. Her upper torso disappeared into the depths of the kit. "Here's the SkeleGro." One arm reached out holding said glass bottle. The rest of Mrs. Weasley continued to rummage. "And... ta-da! Now we can figure out what's the matter with your head."  
  
Mrs. Weasley's head and torso finally re-emerged into Draco's line of sight. She'd found a Kopfometer stick. The plain, wooden stick looked like a tongue depressor but changed color after being stuck in someone's mouth for a time. Each color that appeared represented a different malady or injury, though it only worked for the neck on up.  
  
Mrs. Weasley tore off the packaging and placed the color chart on the table. Draco accepted the Kopfometer gracefully, making sure that the stick was secure underneath his tongue.  
  
While the two waited for the results, Mrs. Weasley busied herself with getting the SkeleGro ready. By the time everything was mixed in the beaker and the beaker was on the stove, the Kopfometer was finished. Three colored stripes had materialized. Mrs. Weasley grabbed the depressor and began checking it against the chart.  
  
"Pink is... bruising, and grass green is a cut. But what's paisley?" She flipped the chart over. "Ah, a concussion." The SkeleGro started to bubble and hiss. Mrs. Weasley brought the beaker over to Draco while she talked. "I don't believe I'll do much with your head. It's always tricky dealing with someone's brain, and a concussion should heal on its own anyway."  
  
She handed the beaker to Draco, and he gulped down the acid blue-colored liquid.  
  
Mrs. Weasley continued talking as she retrieved a jar of salve from the first aid kit. "Here's some nice, herbal unguent for you to put on the bruises," she said, handing Draco the jar. "It'll lessen the soreness and help them heal faster. And I added some sleeping draught to the SkeleGro. Not a lot, just enough for you to sleep while it does its work. Now back to bed with you."  
  
Draco nodded his thanks to Mrs. Weasley and began the five flight trek back to Ron's room.  
  
Once up in his surrogate bedroom, Draco sat on the bed. He spied pajamas on the bed stand and looked down at himself. He was still wearing the dirty robes that he had escaped in.  
  
Sighing, he stood and changed into the pajama bottoms. They were red with white vertical stripes, and he had to tighten the drawstring so that they didn't fall off. He applied Mrs. Weasley's ointment to his ribcage and what he could reach of his back and shoulders then laid down on top of the bedcovers. The room was plenty warm to sleep just like that.  
  
Draco could feel the SkeleGro beginning its work, pins and needles inside his arm. Draco distracted himself from the feeling by staring at Ron's many Chudley Cannons posters. The sheets and pillow still smelled like Ron, which was nice.  
  
The next thing to muddle its way into Draco's consciousness was the rustling sound of someone else in the room. Draco opened his eyes and saw Harry Potter pulling on an oversized shirt. At some point, he had fallen asleep. Now it was morning again.  
  
Draco sat up and briefly shook his head back and forth, clearing the sleepy cobwebs from his thoughts. "What... are you doing here?" he asked.  
  
"Nobody told you? I'm staying here for the rest of the summer. Better get downstairs; it's breakfast time."  
  
And just like that, Harry was gone out the door.  
  
Draco found his robes, now clean and mended, on the dresser. He changed and followed Harry. He stopped in the doorway to the kitchen, like he had yesterday.  
  
Eight people were crowded around the large table; there was one spot left for him next to Ron. He continued to stand until Ron called over the noise.  
  
"Hey Draco! Come over here. There's loads to eat."  
  
Ron himself had a heaping plateful.  
  
Draco sat and spread strawberry jam on a roll for himself. With the cacophony created by seven Weasleys and one non-Weasley, no one noticed if he didn't talk. And this made it easy for him to observe these people's interactions.  
  
Fred and George spent most of their time pulling pranks on various members of the family and then whispering to each other at length. Mrs. Weasley interrupted her conversation with Bill and her husband for long enough to glare at the twins every time something happened. She never told them to stop though.  
  
Ginny seemed to have gotten over her shyness around Harry and was now enjoying a spirited conversation with him and Ron about the upcoming year. Despite the fact that Ron wasn't looking at him, Draco didn't feel ignored. Ron's hand had crept its way up to rest on his thigh.  
  
In the following days, Draco settled into a routine. He spent his time seeing how so many *loud* people could live together more or less peacefully. Neither life at home nor with the Slytherins could have prepared him for the sheer boisterousness here, and he'd been left... unsettled.  
  
Mrs. Weasley liked to fuss over both him and Harry. She especially liked to feed them. Apparently, she thought both boys were too skinny for their own good.  
  
Draco found out that Fred and George were going to open a prank store in September, despite Mrs. Weasley's displeasure at the idea. They spent most of their time in their room making inventory and filling out the paperwork that came with any business venture. But any time they had a new product to test, they tested it on Draco. The most amusing so far was a lollipop that caused one's hair to shift from color to color. After he finished the sucker, Draco's hair stayed maroon for the better part of an hour.  
  
The remaining time was spent playing Quidditch. Bill, who had taken a lengthy vacation from Gringotts to visit with his family, enjoyed joining his siblings plus guests. For the most part, it was Bill and Ginny against Ron and Harry while Draco refereed from the ground. Sometimes, for variety, the teams switched around and Draco got on one of the brooms. But, again, Draco preferred watching to participating. Human interaction, in all its forms, never ceased to be interesting. And being able to watch his boyfriend get all sweaty was an added bonus.  
  
Draco had figured out whom Ginny was dating almost immediately. It wasn't difficult. The two had just entered Ron's room when he'd informed Ron of that fact, and Ron tried to tickle the answer out of him. Draco didn't want to tell; it wasn't his secret *to* tell. So he'd shut Ron up the best way possible-- with a kiss.  
  
The door was open, as per Mrs. Weasley's orders, but neither boy worried about being disturbed. Harry was busy cleaning his broomstick, and other than them, no one had a reason to venture that far up the staircase.  
  
Ron quickly undid the clasps on Draco's robe, which was technically Ron's robe since Draco's was dirty. The robe fell off Draco's shoulders but stayed hooked on his arms; he was too occupied with Ron's mouth to notice and help. It was difficult to find "alone time" with seven other people in the house. Draco intended to take full advantage of this opportunity.  
  
Draco walked backwards, pulling Ron with him, till the backs of his knees touched the bed. Ron threaded his fingers through Draco's corn silk hair even as the other hand slipped from Draco's shoulder. Its light touch danced down Draco's collarbone, finally coming to rest on his chest.  
  
Draco stood up on his tiptoes, trying for a better angle into Ron's mouth, when he felt Ron start to push him onto the bed. It seemed extremely unfair to Draco that he should be separated from Ron for even a few seconds, so....  
  
Draco entangled his legs with Ron's, forcing Ron to fall back with him. Ron broke off the kiss for long enough to get a fresh breath of air but immediately went back. While the kissing was nice-- better than nice-- Draco noticed a few, niggling details that were impeding his fun. Such as Ron's clothes. Draco pushed at them, trying to get them off.  
  
Ron didn't want to assist Draco. He was still busy having fun with his mouth. The hand on Draco's chest began toying with Draco's nipple while Ron moved his mouth from Draco's lips onto Draco's jaw, then his ear, and then his neck. The other hand also traveled down to provide sensation to the other nipple. So that it didn't feel neglected.  
  
Draco gave up on removing any clothes and simply moaned. It felt too good not to concentrate on Ron and the sensations he was creating. His hands curled into fists behind Ron's back, and he arched up into Ron's kisses.  
  
Eventually, Ron reached Draco's collarbone and realized that he still felt cloth beneath his questing hands. So Ron removed his hands to help Draco remove their robes.  
  
*****  
  
Author speaking. Sorry about cutting off here, but we've reached my personal limit as to what I'll write. Also, I want this fic to keep its R rating. We rejoin the story a little bit after bedtime.  
  
*****  
  
Draco stared quietly up at the ceiling. Beside him, Harry snored lightly. His first day at the Burrow, he had been warned about the ghost in the attic, but it had as yet to make an appearance. Despite the respite from Weasley noise, he couldn't sleep. Too much thinking was going on inside his head.  
  
What was going to happen to him? Surely his father had noticed his absence by now. And, while the Weasleys hadn't shown any concern, Draco knew that it was only a matter of time.  
  
He idly wondered what his punishment would be. Lucius, while cold and calculating, had trouble understanding some of his... friends' likings for mental games and torture. Having no heart himself, he preferred somewhat more tangible methods and rewards.  
  
When his father found him, he wouldn't return to Hogwarts. Hell, he wouldn't be returning to any school period. It would be straight to the lowest level of the dungeons for him. Lucius would probably keep him alive as a deterrent to show off to any other would-be rebels that practiced the Dark Arts. Comforting thought, that.  
  
So the question became what he should do. He wasn't strong enough to face Lucius on his own, but his father surely knew that he was staying with the Weasleys. What to do...? 


End file.
